GLITCH
by Invisiblegirl16
Summary: A one-shot. And this glitch. This curse. This blessing. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all. Maybe it was just another part of who she was. Another part of President Vanellope von Schweetz.


**A one-shot on Vanellope pre and post movie. I know technically it isn't made clear on whether or not Vanellope even knows she can die inside the game if it gets unplugged (and is hinted that she, in fact, doesn't), but, I mean, come on. Considering she already knows glitches can't leave their games (probably because she's tried before), she'd have to had thought at some point about what happens if the game gets unplugged and she can't get out.**

**Either way, small plot holes aside, I hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Wreck-It Ralph.**

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><p><strong>G<strong>litch. How she _hated_ that word. It haunted her. Grew claws and dug them in deep. Tore her apart pixel-by-pixel. That word was a seal to her fate. And, as much as she tried to not let it define her, not a day went by that Vanellope wasn't constantly reminded of the fact that was one. A glitch. A character not even meant to exist. She had no purpose, not in the eyes of the racers or King _Crazy_. But she knew that wasn't so, she was a racer. She could feel it in her code. Her "feelings," however, clearly didn't matter, to anyone. They discouraged her at every turn. Sometimes it was a struggle to resist the temptation to give in.

**L**osing simply wasn't apart of her programing though. And, although her tormentors would say she hardly had any programming to begin with, she knew she was a winner. She just wished they could see it. More than anything, she wanted to get behind the wheel. Hear the hum of the motor. Feel the kart rumbling beneath her small form. Feel that power and take it for a spin. The wind through her hair, the lemon drop sun baring down on her. The stretch of the sugar dust road before her. Yeah . . . that sounded nice.

**I**t didn't seem like a lot to ask for, really. Oh, sure, the king had enough "talks" with her to inform her of the dangers that her racing could lead to. The gamers would think _Sugar Rush _had a bug or something and their plug would be pulled. She understood that well enough, like how she understood that glitches couldn't leave their games (the first time she tried to leave, and the horror of being held back by the barrier, was still with her to this day). Clearly, she'd die with the game. Game over. She'd be the one in the most danger out of _all_ of them, so why did they seem to think she was sabotaging them?

**T**oday was the same, as always. Leave the safety of Diet Cola Mountain, go rummage around for some parts to make yet another kart - a pedal pusher, but what other choice did she have? It wasn't like anyone was throwing out _engines_, especially with the chance that _she_ could get her glitchy paws on it. So, she had to make do. Then, _they_ showed up. It was like a routine with them. They surrounded her. Strawberry Shortfake (uh, Taffyta), sucking on her ever-present lollipop, approached her, with Airhead (er, _Candle_head) and Rancid (um, Ran_cis_) flanking her sides like the lap-devil-dogs they were. The usual dialogue was issued. Glitch this. Glitch that. Rules. King Candy said. Blah-blah-blah. Then came the fun part, the destruction of her kart, which was barely even beginning to resemble one and would never get the chance to. Chocolate soaked her clothes . . . again. She stopped crying a long time ago. Why waste tears on people who just didn't seem to care either way?

**C**andy Cane Forest was where she was hanging around when she saw him. The hobo with the freakishly huge hands. He was trying to climb one of the trees, claimed he was from a candy tree department. Poor sap didn't even know a double-stripped branch when he saw one! He was trying to get something - a coin. Or so she had thought, but when she found out the truth, and about how that medal would change his own life and label, she realized that maybe she and the programmed bad guy had a lot more in common than she figured.

**H**ow great it felt to race. To win (well, sort of). To discover that she was, in fact, right all along. You really couldn't mess with the programming. And her programming said she was a racer. Not just a racer, but a _princess_ (well, now _president_), which was a nice bonus, but still . . . a racer. She was a _racer_. More than that, she not only got what she had been striving for since practically forever, she got what she _needed_ as well, a friend. Sure, with their memories regained, her former bullies were now her new friends, but Ralph (her stinkbrain, her hero) would always have a special place in her pixelated heart. And this glitch. This curse. This blessing. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all. Maybe it was just another part of who she was. Another part of President Vanellope von Schweetz.


End file.
